Brad Reed

Gone to Crooks and Liars. Hope all goes well.

In not-Brad-Reed AlterNet news, I got an email from Brian Hill. No no, not the former coach of my much-lamented Vancouver Grizzlies, but Brian Hill, debunker of lies about whether or not people are right-wing maniacs. Thrill to a man who will read out thing he finds on the internet! Unless the items are too long, and then he will explain that the item is too long to be read. Orly Taitz has put episode 2 up, but her site may still be infectious, so we'll leave out the link.



Sadly, debunking spree episode 2 is missing visuals for the intro. I encourage you to click episode 3:



And more from my inbox, because we are wholly focus-free:

What do you see? Cindy and Meghan McCain. Mother and daughter. Stalwarts of the Republican Party. Wife and daughter of Senator and past Republican presidential nominee, John McCain. Duct tape? Elephant?

INTEREST AND NEWSLETTER!!!

But wait, it's Eugene Delgaudio, an outworthy name if I ever heard one, harping on about the dreaded homosexual again. Two wars, a poisoned sea, climate change and an economic collapse and Eugene's worried about the homosexual who won't stop sucking his cock.

That's Eugene there on the right.



Via Steve Clemons:

[Dear Penthouse Forum:]

One stormy night I drove to a mailshop hidden deep in a nearly deserted stand of warehouses. I'd heard something was up and wanted to see for myself.

As I rounded the final turn my eyes nearly popped. Tractor-trailers pulled up to loading docks, cars and vans everywhere and long-haired, earring-pierced men scurrying around running forklifts, inserters and huge printing presses.

Trembling with worry I went inside. It was worse than I ever imagined.

Row after row of boxes bulging with pro-homosexual petitions lined the walls, stacked to the ceiling.

My mind reeled as I realized hundreds, maybe thousands, more boxes were already loaded on the tractor-trailers. And still more petitions were flying off the press.

Suddenly a dark-haired man screeched, "Delgaudio what are you doing here?" Dozens of men began moving toward me. I'd been recognized.

As I retreated to my car, the man chortled, "This time Delgaudio we can't lose."

I realized then that I had left my keys in the car and the doors were locked. Slowly the burly men approached, and I held my ground, noticing that the dark-haired man taking the lead wore no shirt with his overalls, and one strap was hanging down along a well-muscled right arm.

Et cetera.